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Thursday, January 29, 2015

My Top 10 Films of 2014

It’s that time of the year again
folks!Having finally gotten through
*most* of the major Oscar contenders (or at least, all the ones that stood a
shot at making this list), it is time to finalize my list of my 10 favorite
movies that I saw this year (awards and Oscar picks will follow next
month).

Between the previous Oscar ceremony and
now, I have officially seen 50 new movies from the past year (30 of which I
reviewed for this site). If this is the
first Top 10 you have read, please note my rules regarding eligibility for this
list; in order for a film to be “new,” it has to have received either a film
festival release and/or a limited/general theatrical release in either the
United States or Germany (where I currently live) sometime within 2014,
regardless of whether or not it came out in another country at an earlier date
(see most of the Japanese films I have on these). And as always, there will be no accompanying “Worst
10,” since I try to avoid bad movies like the plague. Most of the films I saw this year were pretty
darn good, so any list like that would merely besmirch the names of decent pieces
well-worth checking out. And as always,
this is list is purely my own subjective opinion. I am in no way attempting to directly compare
everything I saw to list the “absolute” best films. These are simply the movie that stuck with
and spoke to me personally the most, the movies I am most likely to buy and
rewatch in the future, and the reasons for each vary greatly. With that said, let us begin.

I am not quite as high on this movie
as a lot of critics (and awards voters) were, but it is an undeniable blast to
watch. At first one might be tempted to
think that the entire movie is just a running gag of “Look, Michael Keaton playing
a guy who is only famous for playing a superhero, how clever tee-hee,” but one
soon finds that the film is about much more than that, attempting to include
diatribes on the nature of film, live theater, artistic criticism, and good ‘ol
21st-century nihilism. The camerawork
(done to make it seem as if the film was a single, unbroken take) is truly
excellent, and I found the use of free-form drumming as the soundtrack to be
powerfully effective in creating the sort of hectic, anything-can-happen
mindset that gives the film its energy.

However, and I am surprising no one
by saying this, it’s the performers that make this one sing. Michael Keaton reminds everyone how great he
can be, Ed Norton is fantastically absurd as the epitome of the
actors-are-only-real-on-stage stereotype, and this might be my favorite
performance yet by Emma Stone. Zach
Galifianakis is here in a serious role as well, and I sincerely hope we get
more from him. There’s not much overall thematic
depth per say, but the clever
visuals, excellent screenplay, and Grade A acting make it a genuine experience
film everyone should have at least once.

9. Life Itself (Steve James)

Sadly, it was only following his death
last Spring that Roger Ebert started to become one of my biggest inspirations
as a writer and as a film critic. That
alone, however, would not have been enough to merit this film a spot on my Top
10 list. What did was how deftly Steve
James mixes going through the life and events of Roger Ebert (sticking largely
to the structure in Ebert’s own autobiography of the same title) with his final
years and the string of complications that led to his death, combining narrative
sections of the books with footage and recordings of his career, interviews,
and even personal family videos to take the wonderful passages written by Ebert
himself and giving them moving cinematic life.
There is also no shying away from the physical agonies, frustrations,
and what many would consider awful indignities of his deteriorating condition
towards the end (the squeamish will need to turn away for two particular scenes). Unlike several of the more romantic, “big-ticket”
tributes to great 20th century minds (I’m looking at you, The Imitation Game and The Theory of Everything), there is no
attempt to whitewash the more controversial, abrasive, and even less-than-noble
aspects of Roger Ebert’s character. We
see him as he was- a witty, life-loving, sometimes brilliant, sometimes aggravating,
and always human, individual.

It’s rather odd seeing this film be
the one that finally garners heaps of award nominations (and thus far, more
than a few wins) for Wes Anderson, since I actually think this one falls short
of matching his previous work, Moonrise
Kingdom (which, if you recall, came in 3rd in my Top 10 List for 2012). Comparisons aside though, like in
2012, this is one of the best films of the year, hilariously absurd with its
characters, yet haunted by a fatalism and pessimism that seems impossible to overcome
within the world he constructs. And yet,
Gustav and Zero still try their hardest to do just that, even when they admit
their efforts may be futile. Despite its
broad comedic strokes, we see the cracks around the edges of the world the
characters struggle so hard to maintain.
Ralph Fiennes, giving one the year’s most underappreciated performances,
symbolizes the razor-thin edge we all tread separating civility and
savagery. It is a wonderful work, one
that has cemented Wes Anderson as one of my favorite directors in the business
today (note to self, make a 10 Favorite Director’s List asap).

In Miyazaki’s apparent swan song, we
are told the story of the young engineer, Jiro Horikoshi, who designed the
Japanese Zero fighter planes that wreaked havoc on American and British forces
over the course of the war, a choice of subject matter that set off a firestorm
of debates and critiques long after the film debuted, both within Japan and
internationally. Few other films that I
saw this year had me thinking so long and hard afterwards about what I liked
and didn’t like, what I thought worked and didn’t work, and wondering how I
felt about the controversies raging over the decision to romanticize a figure
like Jiro (some critics praised it, others did not, with one critic referred to
it as “disgraceful” and “repellant”). And
even though it is not his best work, I gave it a 4-star rating and chose to
select it for this list precisely because of that- because of how long and hard
it made me think and question my own biases and predispositions in regards to
filmmaking. For that, ultimately, is the
reason why I watch movies- I want to be made to think. I want to be challenged. I want something that will grab me by the
scruff of my neck and hurl me across the room.
The Wind Rises succeeded at
that more than almost every other film I saw this year.

Anyone prepared to dismiss this film
as another obligatory white guilt-trip Oscar bait snorefest ala The Butler, don’t. Because it isn’t. Like 12
Years A Slave last year, Selma is
powerful, effective, and brutally relevant filmmaking reminding us of how
fragile any progress in human affairs is.
Following an awful bombing of a black church in Alabama, Martin Luther
King Jr. and his civil rights allies gather to organize a massive march to
force the federal government to pass a law outlawing voting restriction used to
restrict the black vote. As MLK (a
brilliant David Oyelowo) reminds both LBJ and us in the audience, complacency
when innocents are dying is never an option, the difficulties of the struggle
never an excuse. It is a tragedy that it
will join wonderful and daring works like Cloud
Atlas and Inside Llewyn Davis among
the ranks of masterpieces that did not get their due at the time of their
release, but that in no way lessens the heights it achieves as a work of art
and a statement of political purpose.

This documentary effectively
functions as a litmus test of whether or not you feel that the US government
has massively over-expanded its security apparatus since 9/11. Consisting mostly of the direct, real-time
footage Poitras took of the first fateful meetings of Edward Snowden with
journalists in a Hong Kong hotel room, each individual viewer will most likely see
in Snowden that which they have already decided to see. Is he a traitor, or a hero? Were his actions inexcusably destructive, or
an essential check on the power of large governments and organizations, a
much-needed shock to a system plagued by moral inertia? Regardless of where along the spectrum you
fall, there is no denying the fascinating pull Poitras manages to exert on us,
drawing us into a web of conspiracies with the cinematic techniques and subtle
dexterity of a classic Cold War thriller, sending a chill down your spine at
the very end. This movie, along with Selma, is one of the most important
must-see works of the year.

4. The Lego
Movie (Phil Lord and Christopher Miller)

Although it is not nearly as
emotionally heavy as some of the Oscar-contenders listed above, The Lego Movie is in no way less
intelligent or clever in its endless subversions of every storytelling trope
currently crushing most mainstream, big-budget action movies. In case anyone reading this has not seen it
yet, I will refrain from spoilers, but a certain turn towards the end provides
one of the quickest and quietest backslaps to studio screenwriters I have seen
in years. Flawlessly animated, gripping
in its action scenes, endlessly hilarious, and shamelessly ignored by the
Academy, The Lego Movie was the
summer blockbuster to beat in 2014. And
nothing did. Nope, not even that. Because this movie was awesome.

*sadly, there was no trailer I could find on Youtube with subtitles. So here is a picture instead*

The more I thought about it, the
more I found myself thinking about how still a movie Tamako in Moratorium is.
There is no heavy drama, no fights, and no thrills- just quiet depiction
of a young woman struggling to deal with the vast uncertainties and grayness of
an adult world. Tamako might be the best
on-screen realization of many of the hopes, fears, and worries facing my
generation I’ve yet seen (although the next movie on this list is up there as
well). It is also a celebration of the
many small things that make life good, and worth living. Especially food. Which may also be a big reason I loved it so
much.

2. Boyhood (Richard Linklater)

This is the one I will be rooting
for all night come February 22nd.
Boyhood is one of the most interesting,
daring, innovative, and fascinating film projects to come out in years. Filmed in bits and pieces over 12 years, it succeeds
in presenting one of the most comprehensive stories of a person growing up ever
created. Mason is a very specific child
facing very specific circumstances, but in deliberately crafting him and his
family that way, Linklater is also able to capture so many of the universal
aspects of life that everyone experiences sooner or later. It is not just a compelling story in its own
right, it allows us to tap into an understanding of the commonalities of
struggling to exist that can truly unite us all. It is also fascinating glimpse into the world
of American masculinity itself, and how it can take forms both damaging and
enlightened, all depending on how one allows life to change them.

For all the work that clearly went
into it, it is astonishing how natural the lives we see come are, and how
relevant they are to our own. The
awkwardness of a first date, the frustration with being forced to get a
haircut, the agonized uncertainty of a new school, and many other moments are
scenes not just shown to us- we’ve all been there, regardless of our
nation/skin color/religion/culture/etc. Linklater
also goes the extra mile by always including bits of whatever in the real world
was going on at the time of the filming, enhancing the central story with
enough bits of reality that we instinctively think back to our own memories of
those times- the release of the Harry Potter books, the Iraq War, the 2008
election, the breakout of Lady Gaga, and more are there to jump out at you when
you least expect it, taking you on a nostalgic trip back through your own
childhood.

Once again, as with each of the past
few years, my top spot on this list came down to an agonizing choice between
two beautiful films, works equally worthy of recognition. And this year, as much as I loved Boyhood, for the second year in a row an
animated Japanese work has edged out all other competition to take the #1 spot
on my list. My favorite film of 2014 is
the gorgeous, uplifting, and at times heartbreaking masterpiece by Isao
Takahata, The Tale of Princess Kaguya.

Based on a thousand-year-old
Japanese legend, it is the tale of a poor bamboo farmer who happens across a
fairy child in the woods. Although he
and his wife are at first content to raise her with them in their mountain
village, his overwhelming desire to provide everything he can for the Princess
leads him to the decision to leave the simple life they have known, so that
they can raise her in the traditional fashion in the capital. All for her own good of course, or so the
father thinks.

It is hard to compress into words
the range of emotions this movie is capable of inspiring. Where is the line between familial love and
over-obedience? Is parental direction
better or worse than eternally leaving children to their own devices? So many questions one can ask by the end, and
there is ample evidence for both sides packed into this epic legend of a
tale. I was struck hard by this movie, and left feeling the sort of indescribable depth and expanse of emotion that very, very few films are able to inspire in me. The Tale of Princess Kaguya is not
only one of the best films of recent years, but it also one of the best films
ever released by Studio Ghibli, and will be remembered as such in time.

And that is that! My favorite movies of 2014. Check back soon for my Oscar picks and a few
other look-back posts about 2014, all of which I hope to get up within the next
3 weeks. Wish me luck!